The Colosseum
by WhatComesFromWithin
Summary: Nico, Percy, and Jason's village was invaded by the Romans. Now they have been forced to became gladiators, slaves of Rome. Frank willingly became a gladiator in order to pay off his debt. Leo committed a crime and was forced to fight in the Colosseum as punishment. Will Solace was one of the best doctors in Rome, assigned to heal gladiators. They all want one thing: To be free.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey, guys! This is my new story,** ** _The Colosseum_** **. Before I talk about it, I'd like to mention that the other story I am currently writing,** ** _The Story of Will Solace_** **, is not being abandoned or put on hiatus. I will continue to update that one and this one. So don't fret :) Now, this story is the first multi-perspective story I've written. The main romance will be Solangelo, but there will be plenty of Percabeth, Jiper, Frazel, and Caleo in here too. In fact, Percabeth starts out this story.**

 **I've been dying to write this ever since the idea entered my mind. I take Latin, and we recently did a unit on gladiators. So, I can guarantee that this is historically accurate, at least the majority of it is. I will be including Latin phrases and words to make this seem as real as possible, and I will include their translations in the Author's Notes.**

 **For those of you who have read my work before, you know that I put a warning before the chapter if there's any kind of violence. I will do this only when a gladiator fight is going on. This is a gladiator story. Fights and violence should be expected. It is rated T for a reason. Because of the time period and setting, some elements of this story may seem sexist or discriminatory toward lower classes. THIS DOES NOT DEMONSTRATE MY OWN PERSONAL VIEWS. I am a feminist, and I firmly believe that everyone is equal. I am simply keeping the story true to the time period.**

 **If you have any questions or a suggestion for what you'd like to happen, please feel free to PM me or leave a review.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Percy Jackson series. All rights go to Rick Riordan.**

Percy wiped the sweat from his forehead. The sun was merciless today, but he couldn't afford to pause his work to get a drink. He still had to plow his fields, which would take a good portion of the day to do. So he soldiered on, and put more effort into the work he hated so much. If he hurried, he would be able to spend some extra time with his wife, Annabeth. Just the thought of her motivated him. She was gorgeous, so much so that Percy was sure Venus had been created in her image. Of course, the goddess probably wouldn't like him saying that, but he couldn't help but think it was true. She had blonde hair that gently curled right below her shoulder blades and her lean body was lightly tanned. For some men it was all about the curves, but Annabeth's athletic body made her look strong and healthy, and Percy personally liked it better that way. But it was her eyes that had made him fall in love with her. Her grey eyes were sharp and analytical, speaking of a true intelligence that you simply didn't see often in women. Her gaze was piercing and intimidating, and it had often scared men away before she married Percy, but even then her eyes had only drawn him nearer. He craved every moment of the day that he was able to be with her, and he knew that she adored those moments just as much as he did. Today, however, was especially important, because it was Annabeth's birthday. The other day Percy had gone out into the city and traded with a Greek merchant. For his crop he received a basketful of olives, which were Annabeth's favorite. He couldn't wait to surprise her with them today, and he wanted to be by her side at every possible moment. So it was just his luck that Apollo decided to shine with extra fervor today.

Finally, Percy was finished working the field. He had some other things he needed to do, but he decided he would just get up earlier tomorrow to complete was Annabeth's special day, and he intended to be there for his wife. Grinning, he ran over to the barn and grabbed the olive basket. Annabeth would have finished with the animals earlier that day, but he had hidden the basket behind a rafter to make sure his wife didn't happen upon it. Smiling softly, he retrieved the basket from its hiding place. Percy returned to the house and pushed open the door to see Annabeth sitting in the wooden chair they owned. "Hey, Wise Girl," he greeted her. Surprise flickered in her grey eyes. Annabeth put down the stylus she had been writing with.

"You're finished early," she commented.

Percy smirked and walked over to her, bending down and giving her a peck on the lips. "Well, today's a special day," he said softly, gazing at his wife lovingly. "I plowed the field, but I couldn't wait to give you your present any longer."

"You didn't have to get me anything," Annabeth scolded playfully. "Just having you for a husband is enough."

"But I wanted to get you something," he pouted.

She laughed at him. "Alright then. What'd you get?"

Percy grinned and offered her the basket. Even though she tried to hide it, Percy could see how excited she was. Annabeth carefully removed the cloth covering the basket, and when she saw what was inside, she gasped. "Olives! Percy, when did you get these? How did you get these without me noticing?"

"Remember when I went into the the trading city near here? To trade our crops? Well, I traded some and got that in return. Don't worry," he added quickly upon seeing Annabeth's expression. "I only traded a small amount for that. I made sure they were of the same value."

"Thank you, Percy." She said warmly.

Percy leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "Happy Birthday, Annabeth."

* * *

The next day, Percy got up and hour before the sun, just as he promised himself he would. Annabeth had been elated when she prepared cena. They ate fish and a salad of mushrooms, artichokes, garlic, and a new addition of olives. It was delicious.

"Hey, Percy!"

Percy stopped watering his fields and turned around to see who the voice belonged to. It was his little sister, Estelle. Percy dropped down to his knees and opened up his arms, laughing, as Estelle ran into them and hugged him. "Hey, kid. What're you doing here?" he asked.

Estelle pulled back from the hug and pouted at him. "I miss you," she said simply.

"Aw, I miss you too, kiddo. But I love Annabeth, and I need to live with her and be there for her. Besides, you can always come visit me." Percy sighed inwardly. Estelle had taken it hard when Percy started living with Annabeth after they got married. In all honesty, Percy and Annabeth had gotten married at a late age. He was twenty-four and Annabeth was twenty-three. It had been high time that he started his own life away from his mom (Sally), Estelle, and his stepfather (Paul). But his sister was still having a hard time adjusting to life without him, and it had been eight months.

"I guess…" Estelle mumbled.

Percy gave her a crooked smile. "Tell you what," he said, "Annabeth and I will come and visit you sometime in the next few days, okay? Then you can show us what you've been learning, we can play with you, and it'll be just like old times, only Annabeth will be there, too. Does that sound good?"

Estelle immediately perked up. "Yes!"

Percy laughed softly. "Okay, then. You run on back to mom, alright? I'll see you soon."

Estelle ran off and shouted over her shoulder, "Bye, Percy!"

"Bye, Estelle!" He shouted back.

Little did he know, he would not be seeing any of his family for a very, very long time.

* * *

A day had passed since Percy promised Estelle he would visit her. Percy was coming back from doing more trade in he port city near his home. After dropping off his newly acquired goods, he went into the central part of his village where the well was located. His paternal cousins, Jason and Nico, were already there.

The three cousins were considered 'irresistibly attractive' by everyone they met, or at least, they were according to Annabeth and Jason's wife, Piper. Percy himself had windswept black hair and sea green eyes. He was tall and broad shouldered, and muscular from years of hard work. Jason had light blonde hair and electric blue eyes. His stature matched Percy's, and he, too, was muscled from years of working the land. Jason and Percy differed greatly, however, in their personalities. Percy was laidback, always going with the flow. He had a sarcastic personality, and wasn't afraid to have a little fun. Jason was a rule follower. He believed in order and the importance of responsibility. Though Jason did know how to laugh, loosening him up sometimes. Nico, however, was different from his two cousins in both physical appearance and personality. Jason and Percy were both twenty-four, and Nico was twenty-one. The younger cousin had hair the color of ebony and eyes to match it. His eyes were so dark they appeared to be made of shadows, and it was impossible to distinguish between his irises and his pupils. He was only an inch shorter than his cousins, but he always seemed to fade into the background. Nico was lean, but just as strong as his cousins, even if he might not look it. Nico was moody and withdrawn, and he almost always had a scowl on his face. The guy had been like this ever since the death of his sister, Bianca. But Nico worked hard, and he wasn't afraid to make the necessary sacrifices. Lots of people in the village found him frightening, especially when he sent them what had become known as his death glare, but Percy and Jason always disregarded his isolated preferences, especially since Nico lived alone with his hated stepmother.

The cousins had all lost their fathers, who had been brothers. Zeus was Jason's father, Poseidon was Percy's father, and Hades was Nico's father. The brothers had been traveling to Ostia to trade, but were slaughtered by bandits before they even made it there. The cousins had mourned together, but Percy thought Nico still held resentment for the murders.

"Hey, man." Jason greeted him. Nico merely nodded at him.

"Hey, guys," Percy said. Addressing Jason he said, "How's Piper?"

Jason grinned. He was always excited to talk about his wife, whom the village medic had recently declared pregnant. "She's doing great; just a little nausea in the morning. The doctor said everything was going really well for her so far, and that her being a vegetarian is actually reducing the risk of the baby acquiring some sicknesses. She still has to be careful, but we don't have to worry about what kind of meat she's consuming."

Percy smiled warmly. "Congratulations, again, man. You'll be a great father."

Jason was positively beaming. "Thanks, Percy."

Percy turned to Nico and raised an eyebrow. "What about you? Ever planning on settling down with someone? There are plenty of girls and guys here who would take you."

Nico snorted. "Yeah, no thanks. I don't want to be tied down to someone."

Jason's eyebrow mimicked Percy's. "You mean, you don't want to get attached to someone and have them leave you."

Nico's black eyes narrowed warningly. "No. You're wrong, so just shut up."

Percy looked at his cousin sadly. He knew Nico needed someone to love, but he feared their deaths too much to even try.

"How's Estelle doing?" Nico asked quietly. Percy smirked. His cousins both loved Estelle almost as much as he did, and they loved hearing stories about her since they got to visit so rarely, Jason because he had a family to look after and Nico because he basically did all work on his property alone.

"She's doing okay," Percy said. "She's still pretty annoyed that I moved out and built a house with Annabeth, but I promised I'd visit her in a few days."

"Annabeth just had her birthday a day or two ago, right? What'd you guys do?" Jason inquired.

"Oh, Annabeth didn't really want to make a big deal out of it, but I put off some work to spend time with her, and I gave her a basket of olives I got the last time I went into the city."

They continued procrastinating, catching up on what was going on in each other's lives. Then, from over Jason's shoulder, Percy saw something. It was a cloud of dust, slowly growing in size. The conversation ceased as Jason and Nico turned to see what their cousin was looking at.

"What…" began Percy.

The dust cloud got bigger as it got closer. Apprehension grew with it in Percy's gut. Soon it was so close Percy could make out the faintest silhouette of a horse. But one horse couldn't be the cause of a cloud of that size. Then, he saw the outlines of more horses appear behind the first. Percy's heart rate accelerated. Was it a stampede? Then he saw a glint of metal catch the sun.

Realization dawned on him. "Run!" he bellowed. "Run! It's the Romans!"

Jason's eyes widened and Nico froze. Then they both snapped out of it and ran around the village, spreading the word. Panic moved like fire throughout the village. People hurried to gather their families and bare necessities. Nico ran to help a widow and her ten children, Jason ran to get Piper, and Percy bolted to Annabeth.

He burst through the door and grabbed his cloak and Annabeth's, throwing hers at her. "Percy- what-" Annabeth started to say.

"The Romans are here! Grab your things and run!" He yelled at her.

Annabeth paled, but grabbed a basket and stuffed it full of vegetables, bread, and fruit. Percy started grabbing his tunics and Annabeth's tunicas and stolas. They hurried about the house and gathered all they could carry. Then they sprinted to the barn and Percy loaded their things into the cart they kept there and hooked it up to his horse, Blackjack. Annabeth got into the cart, and Percy handed her the reins.

Annabeth stared at him. "What are you doing? Get in!"

He shook his head. "I have to make sure everyone is evacuating. I'll meet you after you cross the river. Go!"

They stared at each other, then Annabeth leaned down and pressed a brief but hungry kiss to her lover's lips. "Hurry," she whispered. "I love you, Percy."

He smiled lovingly at her. "I love you, too, Annabeth." And he ran back to the central village as Annabeth headed in the opposite direction.

It appeared Jason had done exactly what Percy had, because he was running around the village and ushering people toward the forest, too. Nico had nothing with him but a cloak, and was helping a few families get together what little possessions and money they had to bring.

Percy spotted a girl of about five years looking around, seemingly lost. Adrenaline rushing through his veins, he ran to the girl a scooped her up. She gave a terrified squeak before clutching his shirt with her small fists. "Shh," he told her. "Where are your parents?"

The girl turned her wide hazel eyes on him. "I-I don't know," she sobbed.

"We'll find them," Percy promised. "What's your name?"

"Annia," came the soft reply.

Percy started running, clutching Annia to his chest, listening for panicked shouts of the girl's name over the chaos raging around them. Finally, he heard it. Whipping around, he changed direction and rushed toward the feminine voice he heard. Annia heard it, too. "Mama!" she shrieked.

A middle aged woman with dark hair and Annia's hazel eyes appeared from the crowd. Her eyes locked with Percy's, and they ran to meet each other. The woman's frantic eyes calmed just slightly when they once again landed on her daughter. Percy handed Annia over, and the woman quickly kissed her forehead before urging her toward the forest. "Thank you!" the woman called over her shoulder to Percy, who was already retreating.

"Percy!"

Percy whipped around. That sounded like...Yes, there she was. Estelle. He ran toward his sister and lifted her up in his strong arms. "Estelle, where's Mother?" he asked. Percy looked around for their mother wildly, desperately trying to snag a glance of her brown hair or blue eyes.

"She's by the house," Estelle answered.

Percy started running in that direction. "Then what are you doing here?" he demanded. His Sally, Paul, and Estelle lived close to the forest, but far from the rest of the village. Percy realised that his mother probably didn't know about the Romans, who were almost upon them. He started sprinting, trying to give his family enough time to hastily pack and flee the village. About three-quarters of the way to the house, he saw Paul.

"Paul!" Percy shouted. "Paul!"

Paul turned and ran toward Percy and Estelle. "Percy, what's going-"

"The Romans are almost upon us," Percy interrupted. "You need to pack and flee into the forest. Hurry!"

Paul, eyes wide, nodded and took Estelle in his own arms, bolting toward his home. Percy ran in the opposite direction. He made it back to the village just in time to see the first Roman soldier arrive.

Jason and Nico were still there, too, along with a few other people, who stopped what they were doing and fled once they saw the Romans. The first soldier started to go after them, but Nico picked up a heavy stone and launched it at the soldier's head. It hit home, and the soldier fell off of his horse, and lay on the ground, limp. The cousins all joined together, and Jason picked up a few rakes that had been abandoned during the evacuation. He tossed one to Percy and Nico, and kept the third for himself. Percy tested the weight in his hand. It would do little damage; it was too light. But desperation was also a weapon, and they certainly had that.

Nico leaned over and whispered urgently, "Vitruvia and Cassius refused to leave. Something about being born here and dying here. What they don't seem to realize is that they could be sold into slavery."

"There are a couple other families who stayed," Jason murmured. As an afterthought, he said, "I hope Piper reached the river alright,"

"I hope Annabeth did, too," Percy muttered. They both looked at Nico.

He stared right back. He sighed. "Fine. I hope Persephone doesn't die in an excruciatingly painful way. But I don't think she will, because I doubt Pluto would want to listen to the incessant wailing of her soul."

Jason rolled his eyes and Percy sniggered. He sobered quickly when he saw the next wave of soldiers arrive. They shifted to form a tight formation, each of them ready to attack, even though they knew it was a lost cause. It was as though they had reached a silent conclusion among themselves. They would all die or get captured, but they would fight bravely and give as much time as possible to their fleeing families. They would make one last stand, as cousins. No, brothers.

They were slowly surrounded. They didn't move. One soldier, gesturing to the body of his fallen comrade, asked roughly, "Which of you did this?"

Nico stepped forward, chin held high, his dark eyes gleaming with malice. "I did." He picked up a heavy stone and weighed it in his hand before addressing the Roman soldier again. "Would you like me to show you how?"

The soldier sneered, and Percy, sensing a fight, gripped his rake tightly. A few of the Romans jumped off their horses and walked slowly towards them, clearly expecting an easy fight. Well, Percy would make sure it wasn't an easy fight. He swung his rake toward the soldier nearest to him. The blow was unexpected, and it hit the soldier in the chest, causing him to stumble back in shock. Taking advantage of the unbalanced state of his opponent, Percy used the rake to knock the sword out of his hand. It landed on the dirt ground, and Percy quickly kicked it out of his opponent's reach.

Unfortunately, he recovered quickly and pulled a dagger out of his belt. Percy's attack had also put the other soldiers on guard. To his left, Percy could see Nico start to attack a few guards, and Jason did the same to his right. As the three cousins fought, some of the Romans stormed past them to the rest of the village, plundering and pillaging. Percy heard the screams and cries of the villagers who had stayed behind as they were discovered and forced out of their homes by the Roman soldiers. Some picked up a weapon and tried to fight, but they were quickly defeated. Romans had gathered Jason, Nico, and Percy in the meantime, and the rakes were knocked from their hands. Two Romans grabbed Percy's arms and forced his hands behind his back before binding them together with rope. He struggled, despite the fact that he knew his efforts would be fruitless. Percy was pushed and shoved toward a cart that he hadn't noticed before. Men were inside it, all looking grim and defeated. Some of them wore tattered clothes, some of them were covered in gashes and bruises, some were unconscious, some were at the epitome of health; most of those who were conscious wore grim expressions, but some seemed excited- Percy didn't know what to make of it.

Percy spotted Jason, who was also being forced toward the cart. His blonde cousin was bleeding from a gash on his forehead and was sporting a busted lip. It was only after observing Jason's injuries that Percy noticed the gash along his bicep, which was probably from the soldier's dagger when he tied Percy's hands together. Other than that he was untouched- save a couple bruises, but none of which were too terrible. Nico, however, was unconscious. Percy nearly shook his head at the black haired boy, who was being dragged between two soldiers to the cart Percy himself was nearing. Percy knew Nico was a good fighter, but he could lose his temper easily, which almost always made him make rash decisions while fighting, which led to him getting hurt more often than not. This was obviously one of those times. If Nico were conscious and the situation they were in wasn't so terrible, Percy would have hit his cousin upside the head while Jason chastised him. But the situation they were in was, in fact, quite horrible- Annabeth might have called it dire- and Percy needed all his wits about him if he was to find a way to get away from this situation and away from the trouble they had landed in, especially since one of them was unconscious. Nico, although he'd never admit it, needed someone to watch out for him. Percy wasn't a fool. He knew that he couldn't always be that person, but he could be that person now. Annabeth had always told him that he was loyal to a fault, and he supposed that was true, but that didn't change the fact that he felt a natural inclination to protect every member of his family. Nico adamantly refused his help, and it made Percy feel guilty, as though he should have done something better, even though there was nothing he could have done. At least Jason always let him hang around and help out on his property sometimes. Nico certainly never did.

With a final shove, Percy was thrown against the cart. He felt the splintery wood dig into his arm and scrape it, drawing blood. "Get in," one of the Romans instructed him in a gruff voice. The man seemed to think Percy was stupid because he kept the point of a sword at his back while Percy climbed into the cart, as though Percy would run off while he was surrounded by part of an army. He got in the cart without complaint, even though he really wanted to show that soldier where he could point that sword. Annabeth's voice had entered his mind. Think rationally. You're outnumbered, wounded, your cousins are both wounded, and your hands are literally tied behind your back. Now is not the time for fighting. You need to do what they say and think this through. There will be time to escape later.

Jason was shoved into the cart. He was thrashing and struggling, desperation glinting in his eyes. Percy felt a pang in his heart. His cousin was leaving not only the love of his life, but his unborn child, too. Percy vowed right then that Jason would see Piper and his kid again. He didn't care what he had to do to make it happen. As Jason was pushed into the cart, Percy felt someone take the bonds off of his hands. Looking behind him, he saw that a soldier had reached through the wooden bars on the cart and used his dagger to unbind him. Instead of trying to escape, he followed a gut feeling and simply helped Jason into the cart, whose bonds were promptly cut as well. Then the soldiers dragging Nico approached and threw him in the cart.

Outrage filled Jason's gaze. "Hey! Treat him with some respect! The man deserves that, at least."

The Romans were unimpressed. "He's a slave of Rome," one huffed. "He doesn't get respect."

Well, thought Percy, At least we know where we stand now.

Nearly snarling, Jason bent down and grabbed Nico from underneath his armpits, hauling him into a sitting position. The Romans closed the door to their cage and tied it shut tightly with rope. Percy watched, helpless, as the Romans took apart the village and life he had known. Screams could still be heard, and he saw the bodies of people he had known his whole life strewn across the streets. He felt his eyes start to water, and he turned away from the other men, understanding that strength could mean survival, and weakness could mean death.

Jason looked angrier than Percy had ever seen him. It shook Percy to see such a startling side of his cousin. If Jason hadn't always been so rational, Percy suspected he would have started shouting and shaking the bars of the cage they were in.

The Roman army was soon finished taking apart Percy's home and started to get back on their horses. Percy didn't know where they were headed, but he had an awful feeling as they started moving away from his village that he wouldn't be seeing any of his family for a long, long time. As his previous life faded into the horizon, Percy mourned ruins of his village and wondered when he would be seeing his wife again. He prayed to Jupiter that she was safe, and that his family was alright. He would miss them, but he would find a way back to them. He would.

When he could no longer see the remnants of the world he was leaving behind, Percy turned his attention to the other men in the cart. One man caught his attention. He was sitting directly across from Percy. The man looked like he came from somewhere in Asia. He was burly, and had brown eyes and close cropped dark hair. He caught Percy's eye and gave him a half-hearted smile. "Hello," he said. "I'm Frank."

 **A/N: Cena~ dinner.**

 **Thank you for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I am SO SORRY for the ridiculously long wait. I'm a horrible person. I promise that this will be finished, no matter how long it might take between updates. Feel free to PM me or leave a review to yell at me to hurry up. Thank you for putting up with me. Thanks to those who favorited/followed/reviewed, too. You guys are awesome. If you have any questions, drop a PM or a review.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians. I own only the plot. All other rights go to Rick Riordan.**

 **Vocabulary:**

 **caenum- filth**

 **asine- donkey**

Frank was in trouble. He was a poor- _very_ poor- farmer living in the Roman Empire. His city had surrendered when the Roman army came, and he had been one of the lucky ones who hadn't been sold into slavery. In fact, he had been able to start a good life for himself. He had done some traveling before he decided to settle down in a quiet town near Rome; there he met a freedwoman named Hazel, and they fell in love and got married. They had lived happily for a few years, but then a fire had started in one of their neighbor's fields, and it had quickly spread to other fields. Frank's fields had been nearly completely destroyed. With no crop, he had no way to feed himself and Hazel, and he didn't have anything to trade for necessities. Hazel started to take up odd jobs in an attempt to bring some money in, and Frank hated that she had to work so hard again. He'd wanted her to never feel like she was a slave again. Though she assured him that she didn't feel like a slave at all because she was receiving payment for her services, Frank didn't like that she was doing the same tedious tasks he had wanted to take her away from. Then they received word that Hazel's mother, Marie, was sick. Marie lived a town over from them. She was in dire need of medicine she couldn't afford, and Frank was determined not to let Hazel's mother die when they could do something to help it. But he needed money to pay for the medicine. Desperate, he turned to the government for help. They offered him a loan, and Marie was improving, but it hadn't done much for his financial situation. Now he was struggling to feed himself and Hazel, restore his land, pay taxes, and pay back his loan.

Instead of getting easier with time, things only got harder. Frank and Hazel resorted to eating one meal a day. Frank got up before the sun and worked well after sunset. This lifestyle was not, by any means, healthy, and the effects really started to show on Frank and Hazel. Unable to stand seeing his wife so worn and exhausted. Times weren't getting any better, and therefore neither was Frank. He needed to do something before they sank even further into poverty.

There had always been one option that would almost certainly get them out of debt, but it was dangerous. There was a chance that Frank wouldn't come back from it alive. But as times got more dire, and they only got worse financially, Frank proposed his idea to Hazel.

"Absolutely _not_!" She cried. "Frank, you could _die_! No; we'll find another way to get out of this." She glared at him. "You are not becoming a gladiator."

Frank tried to argue. "But, Hazel, we're only sinking farther into debt. The government wants their loan paid back, and our land isn't going to recover from that fire any time soon. We need to do something now, and as much as I hate the idea of leaving you, this might be the only way."

Hazel was crying. "We could go somewhere else- somewhere with better land, and then we could actually grow crops and sell them, and then we could pay off our debt, and-"

"Hazel," Frank interrupted gently. "You know we can't afford to uproot ourselves. Besides, it would be take a long time to build ourselves another home somewhere, and we'd need to pay for resources. Things would get worse before they got better- if they even got better at all."

"I don't want you to go," Hazel choked out. Her golden eyes glistened. "I wouldn't be able to stand it if you… if you didn't come back." She whispered the last part, and a tear slid down her face when she said _back_. "I can't lose you, Frank. I don't care what else I lose, but I can't lose you."

"You won't lose me." Frank promised quietly. "I'll write to you, and you can write to me. Maybe you could even come and see me once or twice a year when I fight; admission is free, after all. Besides, I stand a better chance than other men. I'm good with almost any type of weapon, and I'm resourceful. There's only a slim chance of dying in the arena, anyway, and I'll only fight a few times a year. Gladiators get the best medical treatment Rome has to offer, too. Honestly, the odds are in my favor."

"Don't say that!" Hazel admonished. "You still could get injured, even fatally. And if you lose the battle, the host of the event could order your demise! Or you could be forced to kill someone." She added in a whisper. "It's a brutal way to live, Frank. I know you don't want to hurt anyone. Don't do this. Don't leave me. _Please._ "

Frank stood up from his seat at their table and walked over to his wife. For a moment, he just stood there, studying her dark, tear stained skin and her watery golden eyes. He reached up and cupped her face, using his thumb to wipe away the tears. He mentally noted the way her cinnamon curls framed her round face and the way her eyes glowed in the light. He knew that this was what he needed to do, and he wanted to remember every little detail about Hazel, so he tried to commit her to memory. But at that point, it was more like trying to make yourself remember that the sky was blue- you already know, but the irrational part of you worries that you'll forget. Or perhaps it was the rational part. Frank gazed at his wife lovingly. Then he leaned down and lightly pressed his lips against hers, his mouth working in the familiar pattern it always did. Hazel reciprocated, and they got lost in the other's kiss, like they always did, no matter how many they had shared. He would miss this, he knew, but it was all to protect her. To give her the life he had promised, to make sure she never felt like she was less than somebody ever again. Hazel was Frank's world, and he prayed she would never forget it. He broke the kiss and looked at her firmly. "You know this is the only way," he began softly. "I don't want this any more than you do, but we both know that this is our best chance. I have faith that I'll get out of this alive, and now I need you to share that faith. I will never truly leave you, Hazel." He added solemnly. " _Never._ Your heart and mine will be forever joined, and nothing could ever break that bond. You can write to me while I'm away, and I'll save up as much of my earnings as I possibly can so I can buy my freedom and come back to you as soon as possible."

A sob was wrenched from Hazel's throat when he said the phrase 'buy my freedom,' and Frank mentally chastised himself for having spoken so insensitively. "I'm sorry," he hastily apologized. "I didn't mean to make you think of those times...but I have to do this Hazel. I _want_ to do this."

"You want to become a slave of Rome? To fight for someone's entertainment? To _kill_ for someone's entertainment?" she asked incredulously.

"No. I do not want to kill anyone. But if it comes down to it...Well, you and I can both understand sacrifices. If there is no other way, I will kill my opponent. But I will do all I can to make sure that doesn't happen."

Hazel said nothing, obviously disturbed and conflicted.

"Hazel?" he prompted gently.

She took a deep breath and stared into his brown eyes. "Go," she whispered, voice breaking. "But, Frank, be careful. Be careful." Hazel grabbed his face and kissed him once again, only this time their kiss was much more desperate. Their mouths moved hungrily against each other, the idea of their long separation adding fervor and pure _need_ to their actions. After a long moment, they both broke away, gasping. Frank leaned down again and pressed a lingering kiss to Hazel's forehead. "I love you," he breathed, burying is face in her cinnamon curls.

She still heard him and replied, "I love you, too." She put her head against his chest, and they held each other long into the night. He must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew he was waking up to the stream of sunlight filtering through a window. He lifted his head up and realized that they had both ended up on the floor, and Hazel was sleeping on Frank's lap. He was leaning against a wall, and when he lifted his head, Hazel began to stir, too. He pressed another kiss to her forehead and said quietly, "Good morning, Treasure,"

It was a name he had taken to calling her after he had bought her freedom. He wanted her to feel valuable, something she never had felt before, and so he nicknamed her 'Treasure.' He was careful never to call her _his_ treasure, because he didn't want to say anything that would indicate that she belonged to him, like a possession. She was, however, the most important thing in the world to him, and he wanted her to remember that. Hazel had grown quite fond of the name, and he adored watching her golden eyes light up when he referred to her by it.

She smiled sleepily at him. "Good morning, Frank." Her smile was slowly chased away, and deep sadness overtook her features. Hazel bit her lip. "You're going to register today, aren't you?"

Frank stroked her hair. "Yes," he murmured. They slowly untangled themselves and stood up. "The sooner we get out of this debt, the better."

Hazel sighed. "I understand. I just wish there was another way."

* * *

Frank climbed onto the wagon. As he sat down and the cart started away, he looked back toward Hazel, who was tearfully waving him farewell, and he gave her one final smile. He didn't know when he would get to smile at her again. The thought filled him with apprehension, so he shoved it into the recesses of his mind. The wagon gave a jolt and they started moving.

Frank watched as Hazel faded into the horizon. Inwardly sighing, he looked around himself and tried to size up the other men in the wagon. They were to be his competition, and it certainly wouldn't hurt to try to gauge their strengths and weaknesses. Looking around him, Frank found that none of the other men were very impressive. Some were strong, yes, but not too much more than your typical farmer. Frank knew that he easily matched them, but he didn't allow himself to believe even for a moment that he would be able to beat any of them in a fight. Many other factors came into play during combat- intelligence, resourcefulness, even creativity and a man's temper. Motivation also played a strong role, Frank mused. So no, he couldn't yet decide who would be the easiest and toughest opponent. But he would gladly keep himself busy trying to figure it out.

Besides, they all had to dangerous on some level. They had volunteered to be gladiators.

"Was that your wife?"

Frank was startled out of his thoughts by a man's voice. He turned his head in surprise and met the ice blue eyes of the man sitting to the right of the person sitting across from him. This man looked slightly stronger than the others Frank had been observing, and there was a calculating look in his eyes. Frank could tell that a fight against him would be hard, but all men had a weakness. Something to make them tick. Frank didn't know what this guy's was, but he would figure it out. In the meantime, he answered the blonde man. "Yes, it was."

The man studied him. "I hope you don't mind my asking, but why leave such a pretty thing like her alone?"

Frank bristled as the man referred to Hazel as 'a pretty thing' even though he knew that the man probably meant nothing by it. Frank was just sensitive about wording because of Hazel's past. He forced himself to relax and respond. "A neighbor's fire destroyed our the majority of our fields. We've been struggling through debt ever since."

The man looked mildly surprised. "Oh, you're doing this to get out of debt?"

Frank blinked. "Yes," he replied slowly. "Why did you decide to become a gladiator?"

The man shrugged. "The glory. The recognition. All my life people have turned away from me. Now I'm going to show them something they can't look away _from_."

Though a part of him was slightly disturbed by the answer, Frank supposed he could understand what the man was talking about, even if the way he went about it seemed a little crazy. He couldn't be blamed for wanting people to finally see who he was and what he could do. But, Frank figured, you have to be careful with that kind of thinking. Glory, recognition, fame- they didn't give a man everything he had ever wanted; in fact, Frank had seen it destroy many great things. Frank always believed that a man was measured by his morals and abilities, not by his station or power, even if he had worked hard to get there.

"My name is Luke," the man- Luke- offered.

"Frank." Frank replied, reaching over to shake Luke's hand.

A scoff sounded from the man next to Luke, who was also blonde-haired and blue-eyed, but he looked much more watered down. His physique was fairly unimpressive, but there was a cunning and ruthless spark behind his eyes that Frank didn't like.

"What?" Luke demanded of the man. "Have we offended you in some way?"

The stranger rolled his eyes. "Yes. With your apparent idiocy. We're to be pitted against each other in combat, and you're trying to make _friends_!" He sneered at them.

"I can understand where you're coming from, but this isn't going to affect how we fight." Luke protested.

"Oh, but it is! If you are made to face against each other, you'll get soft and won't try your hardest, or one of you will and the other will kill you quickly-"

"Or," Frank interrupted quietly. "We could be made to fight alongside each other, and because we have even a mere basic foundation of trust, our chances of winning the fight will have doubled because we were able to fight effectively side by side."

The man looked surprised Frank had spoken over him, and even more so that he had made a good point, but his nose was still scrunched up with disdain.

"What are you called?" demanded Luke, sparing Frank an appreciative glance.

The man sat up straighter. "I am Octavian. I will become the most glorified and spectacular gladiator Rome has ever seen!"

Luke raised an eyebrow. "Really? How are you so sure?"

Color rose to Octavian's cheeks. An mad glint entered his pale eyes as he said, "Ha! You think I'm an idiot, do you? Well, I'll have you know that I possess knowledge far more superior than yours! I have been chosen by Apollo himself to bring even more glory and fame to Rome! You, and no one else in this cart, can hold a candle to me! My shadow stretches over all, and you will never escape from under it."

Frank was very unimpressed. "You claim you are far more intelligent than any other man, yet you have just revealed to us how you plan on winning in the Colosseum."

Octavian turned redder with rage as Luke snorted. "You would do well to respect me! I have been chosen by the gods themselves, and getting in my way would not be in your best interests." Frank had a feeling that if he could have, that would have been the moment Octavian would have exited the room. As it was, they were in a cart, and there was nowhere else to go to. So with a huff, Octavian turned away from them and ignored them for the rest of the ride. Not that Frank was complaining. Despite his radical beliefs and superior attitude, Frank had a feeling that Octavian was indeed a dangerous opponent.

* * *

They had switched carts after a day or so of travel. During this journey Frank discovered that, as a slave of Rome, he did not receive as much food or water as he would have liked. But he had suspected as much when he registered, so he didn't complain.

Frank and a few other men, none of whom were Octavian or Luke, were moved into a caged wagon. He felt uneasy about it, but he knew that conquered peoples would be forced into slavery, and some of them would be chosen to be gladiators, so he understood the reason for the bars. No one could escape.

They were riding behind troops of Roman soldiers. With a sickening feeling in his gut, Frank realized that some more people were about to enter the cart so they could fight in the infamous Colosseum, and these men, unlike everyone else in the cart, did not choose this path.

Frank could hear screams, and he shut his eyes briefly at the sound. Metal glinted in the sunlight, and the panic and fear in the air was palpable. Some time later, Frank watched as a man with sea green eyes and windswept black hair was pressed against the edge of the cart. He struggled briefly, but then his eyes cleared and he seemed to finally acknowledge that there was no use fighting. He climbed into the cart and sat down across from Frank, fury and grief battling in his gaze. He sat down and slouched over, hanging his head. He only lifted it when the sound of another man's angered shout filled the air. Frank snapped his head around and watched as another man, this one with short cropped blonde hair and electric blue eyes ablaze with indignation was pushed roughly against the cart. Also seemingly sensing defeat, he climbed in and sat down next to the first man. Then the soldiers threw in another man, this time unconscious, with raven black hair and pale skin. The blonde exclaimed furiously, "Hey! Treat him with some respect! The man deserves that, at least." The reply he received was unsympathetic and cold. The man heaved his unconscious comrade into a sitting position, looking like all he wanted was to drive a stick through every member of the Roman army. Frank didn't blame him, considering what he had just experienced.

The newly made slave with the green eyes sitting across from Frank seemed to be assessing the state of the unconscious man. Frank guessed that the three of them were close, but how close, he wasn't sure. As the green eyed man's gaze slid over to him, Frank gave him a small smile and said, "Hello. I'm Frank."

The man didn't even try to return the smile, but Frank didn't take offense. "My name is Percy." The man replied softly. Gesturing to the blonde, he continued. "This is my cousin, Jason, and the unconscious man there is our cousin Nico."

Frank nodded, and Percy seemed unwilling to continue the conversation any further, so Frank let him mourn in silence. Any questions regarding Percy's life would be insensitive and would only put salt on fresh wounds. He couldn't even imagine what it must be like to lose everything you had so suddenly and unexpectedly. And now he and his two cousins were being forced to fight- maybe even to the death- in the Colosseum. The best kindness Frank could give Percy now was silence.

Frank could hear Jason muttering angrily and disbelievingly under his breath, but he couldn't quite make out the words. Sympathy and compassion filled Frank, and he wanted dearly to offer comfort, but he highly doubted it would be appreciated at this point in time. So he sat in silence as they moved steadily towards Rome.

* * *

They were on the outskirts of Rome. Frank could see it on the horizon, and he felt an unexplainable pull toward the place. The grandeur of this city was said to be something he couldn't even begin to conceive; the heart of the greatest empire in the world was closer to him than he had ever thought possible. But Frank was not naive- he knew that there would be shadows to the light. But he couldn't help marveling in awe, if only a little bit.

"So," Nico broke the silence in the cart. "That's where we'll die."

It wasn't a question, and it wasn't stated with resignation of any sort. It sounded as though Nico fully _expected_ to meet his demise. But surely he couldn't. That would mean giving up the battle before you even made it into the army. Besides, Nico was...morbid. Ever since he had regained consciousness, Frank had been slightly creeped out by the man. He seemed to radiate death, and the dried blood covering his skin did nothing to dispel that impression. It seemed as though one look into his onyx eyes would send you straight into the Underworld, and Frank honestly wouldn't have been surprised if Nico was a descendant of a demigod child of Pluto. His face seemed to naturally settle itself into a light scowl, and his gaze was intimidating and assessing. His tongue was just as sharp as his other features. Frank couldn't help comparing Nico to a ferocious beast in some ways, and it was not good that this beast was in a cage.

"No one's dying," Jason cut in, leveling a disapproving glare at Nico.

Percy nodded in agreement. "We'll just… fight until we've gathered our peculium, and then we can buy our freedom."

Octavian snorted from the other end of the cart, an action that did not make him any more attractive- physically or personality wise, in Frank's opinion. "That could take years." Then, addressing Nico, "Don't worry, caenum, I'm sure you'll be one of the first to die."

Frank balked at the sudden use of the insult; Jason bristled and Percy tensed beside him. Nico, however, looked highly unimpressed. "Before you? I doubt it, asine. I'll bet you've never worked a day in your life, much less done some of the labor I've done since I learned to walk. In a fight between the two of us, I would, undoubtedly, win."

Octavian pursed his lips, but before he could respond, the cart jerked to a stop. A voice could be heard arguing with the guards.

"Well, how was I supposed to know he was a relative of the emperor? Besides, it was just a little gold! The man had plenty! It's not like I tried to abscond with his firstborn."

A guard came into view, dragging a young man with tan skin, dark and curly hair, brown eyes, and slightly pointed ears by the upper arm. The guard huffed and opened the door to their cage. He threw the man in and then said, "Doesn't matter now; you're still going to become a gladiator." Then he closed the door again and locked it.

The man's features lost all traces of any positive emotion. Slowly, he turned so that he looked Frank in the eye. "Did he just say I was going to become a gladiator?"

Feeling inexplicably guilty, Frank nodded. The man groaned and sank to the floor of the cart. "No. No! _No._ " He took a minute to compose himself, then straightened up and turned back to Frank, a determined smile on his face. "Well," he said. "I suppose I'd better make the best of the time I have left. I'm Leo."

"Frank."

Percy then took it upon himself to introduce the rest of the people in the cart. Frank studied Leo. The man wasn't in the best physical state- he looked like he had gone a long time without eating much at all, more so than most people. From the conversation he heard between Leo and the guard, Frank guessed that Leo had stolen money from someone important to feed himself and had been caught. Unfortunately, whoever he had stolen from was significant enough for his crime to be seen as a capital offense, and now he would pay for it with his life in the most demeaning way possible. In the Colosseum.

Which, with every passing moment, was getting closer.

 **A/N: Thank you for reading!**


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